


This Love, This Hate

by AronKBurns, wineandweens



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Post-Band, Post-Break Up, Topping from the Bottom, erratic Aron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 03:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19033942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AronKBurns/pseuds/AronKBurns, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wineandweens/pseuds/wineandweens
Summary: After ultimately being voted out of the band and ending their long-term relationship, Jorel and Deuce come face-to-face for the first time in months, tempers flaring.





	This Love, This Hate

**Author's Note:**

> We're back at it again with a quick little one-shot. Enjoy!

With his fists clenched, Jorel stared at the familiar door in front of him. It had been a while since he had found himself at this particular doorstep, not since… it all happened. Not since he had to deliver the ultimate blow to his best friend; not since their perfect world fell apart around them; not since the one he loved vowed to make sure he never forgot what he had done to him. He let out a reluctant grunt before knocking on the door, quite loudly; his ex wasn’t going to get away from him this time. Jorel waited, his heart pounding just as hard as his hand did against the wood. _Maybe I should just go before the door opens_. Jorel hesitated, taking a single step back. His brows then furrowed, _No, there’s no going back. I’m going to make him listen_. Finding his courage again, Jorel regained his step closer to the door. Before his fist could knock again, the doorknob twisted, causing his hand to freeze in midair. 

The door creaked and cracked open, familiar eyes peering through the narrow opening. Through the crack, a flash of white from his teeth showed as he smirked, the door closing shut as the man on the other side undid the chain lock. “Well, look who it is…” the man’s nasally voice chimed out as the door reopened, “... A fuckin’ snitch.” His voice feigned a mocking amusement, his thin tattooed arms crossing in front of his chest as his shoulder leaned against the frame of the opened door. 

_Deuce._

Jorel’s eyes instantly betrayed him; they trailed along the other’s face and across his slim figure, trying to read his body language. It was the first time in months that he found himself in the presence of the singer. Part of him immediately wanted to think of and remember the happier, and simpler times that they shared together. The other part of him wanted to go ahead and punch that smug look right off his face. He was hating every second that he had to be near him, yet shamefully, loved it just the same. His fists clenched tighter. “What is your fuckin’ problem?” Jorel challenged with a growl, suddenly remembering the exact reason why he was there in the first place; it certainly wasn’t to patch up loose ends or to merely look at the guy. 

Too many times had Deuce dropped and slandered their names - his name. Too many times had Deuce falsely accused the band, fabricated stories to the press, fibbed in interviews, falsified their friends, their fans, everyone. He was fucking sick of it, and it was going to stop right then and there. Deuce pushed himself off from the frame of the door, standing up straight to make himself look taller than he really was, standing up to his once closest friend. “What’s my fuckin’ problem, motherfucka? You’re the one at my door so what’s _your_ fuckin’ problem?” Deuce spat right back, causing Jorel’s blood boil over. Reaching out, Jorel grabbed a handful of the man’s shirt by the collar, the material tight in his fist as he pulled the thin man towards him. “My problem is that fuckin’ mouth of yours! Now I suggest you quit fuckin’ running it!” Deuce let out an unamused chuckle, though managed to conceal a flinch caused by Jorel’s threatening mannerism. 

Deuce’s responded with a toothy smile, which only aggravated Jorel more. “Tell me, Jay,” he breathed out, eyes narrowing, “Is he a better fuck than me?” Jay returned the visual sentiment, his deep brown eyes burning a hole right through the other’s face. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Jorel responded, his grip on the cotton of Deuce’s shirt twisting around his fingers, causing them to sting a bit. “Don’t act stupid; that new little toy of yours. What? He fuckin’ takes my job, takes my place, and now you’re fucking him? Tell me, Jay, what does that cock slut have that I don’t?” Jorel’s face twisted, “You’re fuckin’ insa—.” Deuce cut him off, his hand reaching out to grab his ex-lover’s wrist, his grasp strong. “Don’t you fuckin’ deny it! Am I that easy to replace? Did I mean nothing to you? Fuck you!” Jorel remained quiet this time, watching as the man he once loved cycle through a range of hysterics and emotions in rapid speed; it was unsettling just how unstable he sounded. “Aron—” Jorel finally muttered out, only to be silenced for a second time. 

“I hate you. I fuckin’ hate you,” he continued, taking a step towards the man at his doorstep. Jorel attempted to take a step back, the hand on his wrist tightening, pulling him towards him. Jorel’s eyes widened as familiar lips suddenly pressed hard against his own, causing him to tense. “What the fuck, Aron—” Jorel grunted as his hand let go of shirt fabric, instead, giving the smaller male’s chest a push back. Deuce filled the gap again, hands reaching up then to grip at both sides of Jorel’s jaw. “I fuckin’ hate your guts,” he growled, roughly pressing his lips back against Jorel’s. His persistence was difficult to fight off and Jorel soon found himself returning the kiss, eyes falling shut as the touch flooded his mind with too many memories. Deuce tugged roughly on Jay’s face, walking backward without breaking the kiss in order to pull the other man inside. The door closed shut behind them, Deuce slamming Jay’s back roughly against it and descending upon him, chest to chest as his lips found his mouth once more. The wind was nearly knocked out of Jorel as he hit the hard surface, gasping for a single breath before Deuce could take it away from him again. 

“Am I not fuckin’ _good_ enough for you? Is that it?” Deuce grumbled as he pulled at Jay’s lower lip with his teeth, a hand reaching down between Jorel’s legs to rub him through his jeans. He could feel that Jay was already semi-hard, the younger man sounding out a needy response to the touch. “Answer me!” Deuce snarled, grabbing Jay tighter and causing him to gasp. Jorel opened his mouth to speak, but instead of listening to the answer he demanded, Deuce moved in to press his mouth to Jay’s, shutting him up before he could speak. He didn’t want to hear what Jorel had to say; he couldn’t take knowing that Jorel could move on from him so easily. 

Jorel pushed himself from his position on the door with ease, outweighing his ex-bandmate and lover, their lips and tongues hungrily moving against each other. Deuce stumbled back, Jorel’s hands on his hips as the singer’s hand still rubbed at the bulge inside of his jeans. The two men staggered, Deuce breaking the heated kiss as soon as he felt the back of his knees hit the side of his busted-up couch. He took a step to the side to get in front of his enemy, giving Jorel a strong push back. The dark-haired bassist fell hard against the cushions, slightly bouncing from the momentum he had. It was all too reminiscent as he watched Deuce from his lowered position, the twink slowly undoing his large belt buckle and pulling his jeans down the length of his skinny legs, revealing that he was wearing nothing underneath, his cock hard. As much as his brain screamed at him, telling him to get up, get the fuck out and dodge the situation, Jorel couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. That body, those lips, that man; the cravings were just too strong to leave now. _It has been so long since I’ve touched him_ , Jorel thought as he reached out with his arms to grab at the singer’s now naked hips, pulling him down on top of him so that Deuce straddled him. Deuce hastily reached in between their bodies, pulling Jorel’s shirt up and over his head in order to reveal the inked skin beneath the cotton fabric. Deuce leaned down; his mouth connected to the white skin of Jorel’s neck, sucking at the skin roughly where he knew he would leave a dark reddish-purple mark - just as he always used to do. He always did enjoy branding the man when they were together; it was just another way to show others that he was _his_. Not anyone else’s. He still wanted to show that Jorel was his - not only his but especially _not_ that asshole’s who replaced him. 

Deuce bit down at the skin, Jorel moaning under his breath as his hands gripped Deuce’s sides, one hand trailing lower to grip at an ass cheek, groping it tightly. Deuce rolled his bare hips against the front of Jorel’s jeans, the friction causing his head to fall back, a groan escaping that smart mouth of his. “Fuck, Aron—” Jorel softly breathed out, Deuce quickly picking his head up from its fallen position to glare at him. “Shut the fuck up,” Deuce spat, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me like you care.” He ground his ass harder against Jorel’s clothed hard-on, reaching his hands down in between their bodies to unfasten the front of his ex’s jeans. Though biting his tongue from what he wanted to say, Jorel allowed Deuce to get away with whatever he wanted. Lifting his hips from the couch cushions momentarily, he made it easier for his jeans to be pulled down to his thighs, their nude hips finally meeting and pressing flush against each other. Jorel hissed as their aroused cocks touched, his own hands rushing to grip the bottom hem of Deuce’s tank top, pulling it up and along his torso. As quickly as the rest of Deuce’s clothes were removed, their lips were back on each other, tongues pressing together and wrestling for some type of dominance amongst each other. Jorel moaned into Deuce’s mouth, the thinner male raking his nails down the skin of Jay’s chest, leaving streaks that burned a bright red. 

Bringing a hand up to his mouth, Deuce spat into his palm, reaching down afterward to run his hand and fingers up and down the base of Jorel’s cock. Jay’s head fell back against the couch cushions as he was touched, the tip of his tongue running across his puffy lower lip, swollen from the rough kisses and bites it had taken. Deuce coated Jorel the best he could, aligning himself to the swollen tip. He wasn’t concerned whether Jorel was lubed up properly or not; he could take the pain. It still wouldn’t hurt as much as Jorel’s ultimate betrayal. He lowered himself down, allowing Jorel to penetrate his tight ass in one slow movement. Deuce moaned out as his hands pressed against Jorel’s upper arms, pinning his ex-lover’s back to the couch as he lowered himself further until his ass swallowed the rock hard cock whole. 

The singer groaned and his movements paused once they were hip to hip, Jorel’s hands gripping him tightly at his sides. It had been too long since he felt Jorel’s arms around him, too long since feeling the other man inside of him; he hated the fact that he missed it - after everything he had done to him. Their eyes met. He remembered how he had enjoyed years of looking into those eyes, but now, it was painful just to connect with them. Those soft rings of gold and hazel were now only rings of fire, scorching him right in the heart, burning him away. Tearing his gaze, forcing himself to push away his vulnerabilities, Deuce spat to himself. _You hate him. You hate him. God, I hate him. And yet..._

In two quick movements, Deuce moved up on Jorel’s cock before slamming himself back down, causing both men to gasp. His movements became rapid; his thighs burned when he wouldn’t give himself a moment’s rest, fucking himself hard against his ex-lover. He could feel Jorel’s eyes on him the entire time, the singer averting his gaze by bowing his head, watching himself levitate and lower. “Oh, Aron—” Jorel moaned above the heavy sounds of their rapid breathing, causing Deuce to tense further. He moved his palm to Jorel’s mouth, planting it firmly over his lips to keep any more words from escaping. While his body was trembling, his mind was cracking. “Fuckin’ don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t say my name.” Deuce muttered between his own bated breath, head falling back for eyes to look towards the heavens as soon as he felt Jorel’s hand wrap around his engorged cock. As much as he didn’t want Jorel to touch him, or to allow him to have any control, it felt way too good. He missed those hands on him. 

The hand pumped his throbbing base and teased the needy tip, Jorel licking his lips as he watched Deuce’s face twist from the pleasure of double stimulation. Deuce was close. His legs screamed as his thigh muscles worked hard to move himself up and down the hard shaft, his once perfect rhythm was now sloppy and inconsistent. His cock twitched within Jorel’s hand and fingers, his muscles pulsating underneath hot skin. It wasn’t fair that he was already so close, knowing that it made him look weak. “Fuck—” Deuce reluctantly choked out, eyes shut tightly as he shot in a stream of white with no warning, semen coating his ex-bandmate’s fingers as the digits continued to work him through his sudden orgasm. Jorel followed shortly thereafter, grunting against Deuce’s palm as he buried hot cum deep inside of him. 

All movements had stopped, the only sounds left in the room to be heard being the labored breaths of the two tired men. He didn’t bother moving from Jay’s lap, just as Jorel didn’t bother from removing himself from Deuce’s backside. They both knew as soon as they did, it would go back to how it was - ex-bandmates, ex-best friends, ex-lovers - mortal enemies. Deuce’s hand fell from Jorel’s mouth, fingers brushing down the sweat-glistening skin of the other’s chest, brown eyes silently reading the tattooed words that felt all too personal right then and there. _Cupid’s Victim_. He frowned, sighing as he bowed his head to press his face to the side of Jay’s neck, muttering words against him. Unable to hear, Jorel raised a brow, his hands moving to gently grip Deuce’s shoulders. He pulled him back, forcing Deuce to remove his face from its makeshift hiding place. _Those eyes were so intimidating; they always were._ “What is it?” Jorel asked as he dipped his head down a bit in order to find Deuce’s retreating eyes, the smug man suddenly acting so bashful. Deuce winced at the question, feeling a chill against his sweaty skin. Goosebumps raised almost immediately as he felt Jorel’s fingertips trail down from his shoulders and to his heavy chest, dancing even lower until nails traced the skin of his weary thighs; it was almost like he was trying to memorize Deuce’s body again, despite having it so many times in the past. Deuce took a final sigh; “I hate how much I still love you.”

Deuce felt his chest and stomach begin to hollow out, his heart sinking and ears ringing as his own words lingered throughout the still room around them. His shoulders slumped as he looked at his ex-boyfriend’s expression, reading nothing but shock, a hint of stun and confusion. He didn’t like the look Jay was giving him. “Don’t fuckin’ pity me, asshole,” Deuce spat out, quickly covering his embarrassment with the palm of his hand, shielding his blushing face from the other. Deuce forcefully swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat as he fully turned his head from Jorel, shifting from his position on top of him in order to retreat. The sudden movement forced Jorel’s cock to pull out of him; Deuce cringed slightly, partially from the sudden void it left in his ass, the other caused by the subtle wet feeling of cum sliding out and dribbling down his inner thigh. 

Tattooed hands reached out and gripped at his shoulders, Jorel holding him in place and pulling him back down into his lap. Deuce turned his gaze back onto him, his enemy’s eyes fixated directly onto his. He could almost feel himself starting to shrink within Jorel’s tight grasp. “You don’t have to act so fuckin’ tough all the time, ya’ know,” Jorel spoke softly then, reaching one hand out to brush through the side of Deuce’s dark locks of hair. The smaller man instinctually leaned into the feeling of his ex’s hand, though his forehead slightly wrinkling in typical combative response. “Why’s it matter to you, anyway? You’ll just be running back to _him_ again in no time,” Deuce responded in a snarky tone, though clearly showing the hurt through his body language. Jorel rolled his eyes, his hand sliding out of Deuce’s hair in order to rest and cup at his ex-lover’s cheek. Leaning in, he initiated a kiss, the touch surprising the singer as lips touched with his own. It was a touch that wasn't forced or influenced; Jorel was kissing him because he wanted to. “Can you just shut up for once, you fuckin’ idiot?” Jorel muttered against Deuce’s mouth, pulling back to look him square in the eye. “You know damn well those rumors aren’t true.” Deuce’s shoulders slumped once more, though, unable to hide the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips. While the voices told him to worry, he sensed some honesty in Jorel’s voice. 

Jorel sighed, giving a soft shrug of his shoulder, “Maybe... we should've tried to work this all out a little bit better.” Deuce let out a small hum, tilting his head to the side, “The break up or the band?” Shaking his head, Jorel brought his hand back up, tapping his fingers against Deuce’s face as if to get his full attention. “The break up, you dummy. I've... really missed you.” The singer bit on his lower lip, hands trailing up Jay’s chest. “Really?” Deuce murmured out, hands coming to a stop at Jorel’s collarbones, fingertips gently caressing the skin there. “Love doesn’t burn away that easily, Aron,” Jorel simply stated as he leaned back in, their lips brushing together. “And I’m willing to give it another shot…” Pausing, he pulled back just slightly, Jay opened his half-lidded eyes to look at his ex-boyfriend. Cocking his head, he opened his mouth to continue speaking, “...On one condition?” Deuce pulled away from their lip lock to raise a brow, waiting for Jorel to continue. “Stop running that fuckin’ mouth of yours?” The corner of Aron’s lip curved upward, a blush creeping across his cheeks as he lowered his head. Giving a slight nod, his nuzzled his nose gently against Jorel’s cheek. “I guess I’ll give it a try… asshole.”


End file.
